


The Gentle Present

by ryanthepowerbottomguy



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Blood, Gore, Groundhog Day AU, M/M, minecraft au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 10:01:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2846987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryanthepowerbottomguy/pseuds/ryanthepowerbottomguy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryan couldn’t figure out if he was dreaming, or if gods he had never believed in were playing some cruel trick on him. Gavin kept dying and Ryan couldn’t do anything to stop it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. the gentle present

**Author's Note:**

> based on the rtshippyprompts prompt found [here](http://rtshippyprompts.tumblr.com/post/105666675667/)

There wasn’t much left of him to bring home.

Ryan made his way back to Achievement City, shivering with the cold that had descended over him. The ruins had seemed so close in the bright light of the morning with Gavin bouncing along beside him, but now the solitary journey back seemed like miles.

He kept his gaze on his feet, all his attention focused on putting one foot in front of the other. He didn’t think about the blood on his hands, about the mangled necklace in his pocket. He tried not to think about anything.

He looked up when he reached the safe, comforting light of their little city, and when his legs finally gave out on him he could lean against Geoff’s tower and press his cheek to the cold, rough stone and just try to breathe.

“Ryan,” someone was saying then—Geoff, that was Geoff. Geoff had Ryan’s shoulders in a tight grip. “Ryan, are you okay? Where’s Gavin?”

Ryan couldn’t answer—how the _hell_ was he supposed to?—but Geoff seemed to understand anyway. “Oh,” Geoff said, very quietly. “Oh.” Then he was guiding Ryan into the tower, and Ryan let himself be led.

Inside the tower was warm and bright, nothing like the coming dark, and Ryan could hear loud conversation and laughter, though he couldn’t focus on the actual words. It was like he was underwater. It was hard to hear, hard to move, and he felt like he couldn’t breathe right, like the crushing weight of Gavin’s absence was deflating his lungs.

He could feel three sets of eyes on him, and the laughter died quickly as they took in his appearance. Shaking, pale, with blood on his hands and his face and in his _hair_ —and alone.

“What the fuck,” Michael whispered. “No.” Ray and Jack were silent. Ryan couldn’t make himself raise his eyes to meet their gaze.

Creepers were funny creatures. Nobody alive anymore knew what they really were, why they ticked the way they did. Gavin had seemed to know the most about them, but whatever he had known he had kept to himself. But he knew how to blend in with them, how to make himself unnoticeable to most of them. It had saved his life more than once. Ryan knew it had something to do with the discolored, leathery patch of skin on Gavin’s shoulder, but he had never asked, and Gavin had never explained. And now he never would.

Ryan shook his head and let Geoff push him into a chair, let someone hand him a mug of something warm that smelled vaguely of alcohol.

“What the fuck, Ryan?” Michael stood over him, fists shaking and eyes red. “Ryan, where’s Gavin?”

Ryan rubbed his face with his free hand. “There…” His voice cracked, and he swallowed a mouthful of his drink before continuing. The burn of alcohol made it a little easier. “There was a creeper.”

He could feel their stares on him, but he didn’t know how to explain the hulking creature that had barely even resembled a creeper except for the color of its skin, didn’t know how to explain the way it crackled as if electrified. Didn’t know how to explain Gavin’s brief, terrified scream, or the way the ceiling had collapsed in on Gavin before Ryan could move.

“Jesus christ,” Geoff muttered, and Ryan looked up from his hands. Geoff had sat down at the table, opposite Ryan, and he looked like he had aged ten years since this morning. Ray was staring off into the distance, but Ryan could see tears in Ray’s eyes and the way Ray clenched his jaw. Jack had gone pale, and he had his hand on Geoff shoulder like he was trying to support them both. Michael—Michael looked devastated, his entire body shaking, his eyes over-bright.

Ryan reached into his pocket and pulled out the pendant. It had snapped on their way to the ruins early that day, and Ryan had promised to keep it safe for Gavin until they could bring it to Jack to be repaired. It had been a gift from Michael, something he had found for Gavin years ago. Now, Ryan held it out to Michael, and Michael choked back a sob. It was the least Ryan could do. He was the one who had gotten Gavin killed, after all.

⎌

When Ryan woke up the next morning, he couldn’t do anything but stare up at the ceiling of their—his—house. He could feel tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. With the way all of them lived, Ryan hadn’t expected any of them to get old. Hell, Ryan was still sometimes surprised that he had survived to be in his thirties. But he hadn’t expected Gavin to die, hadn’t expected him to go _first_ , not so _soon_ , and Ryan threw this arm over his eyes.

With a jolt he realized that there was someone in the bed with him. He didn’t look over, but he knew that soft breathing so fucking well. And that was impossible.

It was Gavin, looking alive and well and peaceful in sleep, fingers twitching slightly as he dreamed, and Ryan could only stare. Gavin was alive. Gavin was alive.

Like he knew someone was watching him, Gavin blinked his eyes open just a few moments later, mumbling something nonsensical under his breath before his gaze sharpened on Ryan’s face and his expression turned worried.

“Ryan?” he asked, and when he reached out to cup Ryan’s cheek, Ryan realized he was shaking. “Ryan, you look like you’ve been seeing ghosts.”

Ryan choked out a laugh. “Bad dream,” he said. “I’m fine. I’ll be fine.”

“Good,” Gavin said, pressing a kiss to Ryan’s forehead before bounding out of bed. “We’ve got a big day ahead of us, Rye, exploring those ruins and all.”

“Yeah,” Ryan said, flashing back to—it had to have been a dream. But it had been _so real_ , nothing like his usual dreams, and he felt like if he let Gavin out of his sight for even a second then Gavin would disappear.

They headed out towards the ruins within an hour, Gavin practically skipping beside Ryan, and Ryan couldn’t help but grin. The warm morning sun was washing away the last memories of the dream, and Gavin was alive by his side. It was good.

Midway to the ruins they had scoped out weeks ago, Gavin stopped abruptly, hand flying to his throat.

“Gav?” Ryan asked, turning. Gavin was frowning, eyes sweeping the ground.

“My necklace is gone,” he said, distracted. “Must’ve broken along the way.”

Ryan frowned too. He knew how important that necklace was to Gavin—Michael had given it to Gavin long before Ryan had found the city, and it was something Gavin treasured. The only time he didn’t wear it was when he was bathing.

“It’s probably close if you just noticed it gone,” Ryan said. “I bet it’s only a few feet away.”

It wasn’t as close as Ryan had thought it would be, and the two of them spent a good portion of time combing the grass for a glint of bright metal. Ryan had his attention focused on the ground in front of him, not at all on Gavin.

Ryan jerked up at the high scream, but he couldn’t see Gavin anywhere. “Gavin?” he yelled, running toward the sound of the noise.

The ravine wasn’t deep—only maybe ten or twelve feet—but the drop was sharp, and Ryan scrambled down the steep slope to the stream running through the ravine.

Gavin was lying half in the stream, blood staining the water around him red, and _god_ —Ryan averted his eyes from Gavin’s thigh, where bone had punched through Gavin’s leg. There was just so much blood.

“Ryan, Ryan,” Gavin said, voice breaking like he was close to crying, and Ryan knelt beside Gavin in the water. “Ryan, it _hurts_.”

“Hey,” Ryan said, “hey, you’re going to be okay, it’s just a break—” But it wasn’t just a break, and even as Ryan watched Gavin’s face paled further from the blood loss. There shouldn’t have been this much blood. His mind flashed back to his dream from last night. Had it been some sort of omen?

Ryan lifted Gavin in his arms, ignoring how Gavin cried out, and made his way back up the ravine. He was terrified that the bone had nicked an artery, that Gavin would bleed out before they could make it back to Achievement City—but no, Gavin was going to be okay. He had to be okay.

By the time Ryan made it back to the city, Gavin was cold in his arms. But unlike in his dream—the omen, it had to have been—he had been able at least to bring Gavin home.

⎌

It didn’t stop there, though. Ryan could have handled it, had it just been that. But he kept waking up on that morning over and over again, Gavin alive beside him, and by the time Ryan fell asleep every night Gavin was dead. Ryan had no explanation for it.

Some days, it was monsters, and Ryan learned to have his sword by his side every day so he could kill what creatures came after them. Zombies, creepers, spiders. An Enderman. These things he could try to protect Gavin from.

Other things he couldn’t. Things like food poisoning, or a snake’s venomous bite, or even Gavin’s own clumsiness—these things Ryan couldn’t combat. So he had to watch, time and time again, as Gavin died.

And Ryan always survived.

⎌

It continued like this. Ryan couldn’t figure out if he was dreaming, or if gods he had never believed in were playing some cruel trick on him.

Gavin kept dying and Ryan couldn’t do anything to stop it.

He tried anyway.

One morning he rolled over and said, “Let’s not go exploring today. Let’s just stay in bed.” And Gavin agreed easily. They dozed for several hours, the early morning sunlight streaming in through the window and warming their skin.

Finally, though, Gavin groaned and rolled out of bed. Ryan grabbed at him, tried to pull him back into bed, suddenly terrified because once Gavin left the safety of their bed he would die _again_ —

“Stop it, you lazy prick,” Gavin said with  laugh. “Come on, get up. We need to go feed the animals.”

But Ryan just rolled over and closed his eyes. A few moments later, Gavin stormed out with a huff, and Ryan felt a pang of shame at making Gavin upset, even if Gavin wouldn’t remember it. He didn’t bother getting out of bed, though.

He heard the crack and the rumble of stone, the startled yells of the others. Within a few minutes Jack was pounding on the door and saying, his voice distressed and muffled through the thick wood, “Ryan, Ryan, there’s been an accident.”

⎌

As much as he wanted to try to tell the others what was going on, he couldn’t bring himself to. They were already worried that the time he had spent alone, wandering the plains, had made him mad. He didn’t want to confirm their fears.

So he tried to seem normal. He smiled and talked with Geoff; he sparred with Michael and Ray when he wasn’t watching Gavin; he helped Jack tend to the animals and the farm that sustained the six of them. He woke up every morning and cooked a simple meal for himself and Gavin.

Most mornings Gavin woke with the first smells of cooking food, but this morning he slept on, snoring quietly. It almost felt normal, like Ryan wasn’t trapped in reliving this day over and over again. Ryan let Gavin sleep. He just didn’t have the energy to wake Gavin, to pull him out of the safety of their bed, so he ate breakfast alone and covered Gavin’s food with a towel to keep insects from it.

He washed up, and when he looked out it was already late morning and Gavin still hadn’t woken. A sudden fear froze him, but their bed had always been safe. It couldn’t be.

When Ryan’s shaking fingers checked for a pulse, Gavin’s skin was cool. Numbly, Ryan wondered how long he had been dead. There was a stiffness to Gavin that implied that it had been hours already.

⎌

They stayed home that day, outside in the city. It almost felt normal, except for the way Ryan couldn’t let go of Gavin’s hand, except for the worried looks the others shot him as they went about their business. Ryan had almost forgotten what it was like just to spend a normal day with Gavin.

“Thought you two were heading to those ruins,” Ray said about midafternoon. Ryan was in awe that Gavin had survived so far.

Ryan shrugged. “It looked like rain this morning,” he said, even though the morning had been bright and sunny. He couldn’t help but remember the freak storm that had caused a flash flood, couldn’t help remembering the sound Gavin’s head had made as it hit a rock while the flood’s current had carried him downstream.

“Right,” Ray said, like he didn’t believe Ryan. “Guess you’ll go tomorrow then?”

Ryan nodded. He had almost lost all concept of a tomorrow. Just the same kind of today.

They ate dinner with the others, and Gavin didn’t choke, didn’t eat anything that turned his face or his stomach, and as the two of them watched the sun go down Ryan breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe, maybe the cycle had been broken. Maybe he had been good enough to save Gavin.

He turned away to start back home. It all happened so fast after that. One moment Gavin was by his side, and the next he was on the ground, _screaming_ , and Ryan had his sword out, hacking at the zombie that had ripped open Gavin’s stomach. The zombie made a last noise and fell, but Ryan could see it was too late. He had failed, again. He knelt in Gavin’s blood and watched the life leave Gavin’s eyes and just wished he could give up.

⎌

The next morning, he woke up at the same time he had every morning for—god, it had been too long now, and he couldn’t keep up with the days. He watched the sun begin to creep into the sky, watched light filter through the glass of the window, and made a decision. He got out of bed—checked, quickly, to make sure Gavin was still breathing, reflex since that one morning—and dressed as quietly as he could. He didn’t take anything with him, not a weapon, not food. Just some water to keep him going.

He picked a direction at random and started walking. He didn’t respond when Geoff called out to him. It wouldn’t matter soon, and Geoff wouldn’t remember it anyway.

He kept walking, steadily, never increasing or decreasing his pace except for when the terrain forced him to.

It was mid-afternoon when he heard the faint echoing roar of an explosion, coming from who knew how far behind him. At that, he sat down by a tree and closed his eyes and waited for the next morning.

⎌

Ryan woke with a start. It was disconcerting, falling asleep in one place and waking up in another. He could still feel phantom blood on his hands, but there Gavin was, sleeping deeply and peacefully beside Ryan, chest rising and falling as he breathed. Ryan just watched for a little while, trying to calm his own breathing, his own rapid heartbeat.

The wolves that roamed outside the borders of the city could be fierce, but they generally stayed away from the human inhabitants of the city, unless they felt they were provoked. Ryan wouldn’t ever know what Gavin had done to provoke the wolves, but the sound of sharp teeth ripping flesh from bone would haunt his dreams.

But now Gavin was peaceful in sleep. In a little while he would wake up, and in a few hours he would die again, and it would all start over again. Again and again and again, and Ryan couldn’t do anything to stop it.

Not for the first time, he wondered why he was the only one who remembered all those days that didn’t exist. He had tried to talk to Jack about it, tried to mention it to Ray, but they had given him blank stares or had begun to ask worried questions. He hadn’t tried to broach the topic with Gavin.

It was only Ryan. Only Ryan remembered. He was becoming more and more certain that whatever had set the universe off-kilter, it had to do with him.

He stared at Gavin’s face, still seeing it contorted in a hundred different kinds of agony, and reached out to brush the hair out of his face. Gavin made a soft noise but didn’t wake up. Gavin’s hair was getting long again, long enough that if tomorrow ever came Gavin would be whining about its length by the end of the week.

He knew in his bones that the end of the day would bring pain for Gavin. Gavin nearly never died peacefully, and for the millionth time Ryan wondered who they had wronged to deserve this.

A thought came to Ryan, unbidden. Their pillows were thick, could muffle noise well, and besides, Gavin was still asleep. Ryan could hold the pillow against Gavin’s face until Gavin stopped breathing. He could prevent so much of Gavin’s pain, at least for this today.

When he realized what he was thinking, he fell out of bed, trying desperately to put as much space between himself and Gavin as possible. No, no, no, he would never, he wouldn’t hurt Gavin like that, he couldn’t—and what if that broke the cycle, what if this was the real today, and then he would have Gavin’s blood on his hands.

He forced himself into a corner, far away from their bed, and held his face in his hands as his shoulders shook. He tried to muffle the sounds of his hysterical crying, tried to stay as quiet as possibly so that he wouldn’t wake Gavin. He had to break this cycle, no matter what, because he was truly beginning to fear what he might do.

⎌

He found himself shaking on the ground outside the house, dry-heaving into the dirt, with Gavin crouched over him, hands hovering over his shoulders.

“Ryan?” Gavin asked quietly. “Are you all right?”

Ryan began to shake his head, and then changed his mind and nodded. He would be fine. Yesterday’s—last night’s— _today’s_ revelation stuck with him, clinging to the inside of his roiling stomach. He was the only constant in this fucked-up game that the universe was playing with him.

“We could go to the ruins another day,” Gavin said over breakfast, and Ryan watched him like a hawk to make sure that he wouldn’t choke. He had, once, and Ryan hadn’t been fast enough to stop it. He would be fast enough today.

“I’m fine,” he said, even though he could barely force the food past his lips. It wouldn’t matter.

Gavin still looked concerned but he didn’t say anything more about it. He began to speak about a book he had found a little while ago— _god_ , so long ago now—and even though Ryan had heard about it a number of times now, he hung on to Gavin’s every word, his every expression, the way the joy of finding something of the old world made the corners of his eyes crinkle.

Gavin’s words trailed off and he peered closely at Ryan’s face. “Are you sure you’re all right? You look… funny.”

Ryan smiled and leaned forward to kiss Gavin on the cheek. “Just fine,” he promised. “Now, let’s get going before it’s too late in the day.”

Before they left, Ryan pointed out that he had noticed that the clasp on Gavin’s necklace looked about to snap. “Don’t want to lose it,” Ryan said, and reluctantly Gavin left it on his bedside table.

On the way to the ruins Ryan walked quickly and kept his fingers entwined with Gavin’s the whole way. “Ryan, slow _down!_ ” Gavin said at one point, but Ryan just tugged at his hand and kept going.

“Ryan, you’re awfully weird today,” Gavin said when they stood, unharmed, at the edge of the ruins. Ryan peered into them. He didn’t see the monster, but he knew it would be there. It always was.

Gavin squawked when Ryan unsheathed his diamond sword. “Ryan, bloody answer me!” Gavin said, grabbing Ryan’s jaw and forcing him to look at Gavin. “What the hell is up with you?”

Ryan grinned and turned his head so he could kiss Gavin’s palm. “I’m _fine_ ,” he said. “Soon, everything will be all right. I promise, Gavin. I promise.”

“You’re worrying me,” Gavin said, eyes darting as he tried to decipher Ryan’s expression. Finally, he let go of Ryan’s face.

“Stay behind me,” Ryan said as they stepped closer to the ruins. “I have a bad feeling about this place.”

“A _feeling_ ,” Gavin muttered, but he listened. Thankfully.

The ruins were dark, but Ryan knew the paths to take after so many attempts. He held his sword firm in his hands and let instinct guide his steps until he could hear the faintest crackling noises.

He turned to Gavin then. Gavin’s face was pale and drawn in the dim torchlight. “Stay here,” Ryan said. “No matter what. Promise me, Gavin. You have to promise me.”

Ryan saw Gavin’s throat bob as he swallowed. “I-I promise. Ryan, what—?”

“Don’t,” Ryan said, shifting his sword to one hand so he could cup Gavin’s face in his free hand. “Don’t,” he whispered, and then kissed Gavin. He savored it, made it last, kept it slow. He didn’t remember the last time he had just kissed Gavin like this.

When he pulled away, Gavin looked dazed. “Remember,” Ryan said. “You promised.” And when Gavin nodded, Ryan turned away and began to walk towards the sounds of electricity and explosions.

It would be okay. He was the anomaly here, not Gavin. Resolve the anomaly, and the universe would return to normal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I began writing this, I planned that this would be the ending. However, it morphed into having three endings. So you, as the reader, have a choice: you can finish it here, or choose another ending. Because the way the story works, all three endings are canon. All of them happened. It’s up to you to decide in what order. 
> 
> So from here, you can read _the future is fast coming_ (aka the happy ending, for a given value of happy), or _the past cannot harm you anymore_ (aka this one might end in tears).


	2. the future is fast coming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (the happy ending, for a given value of happy)

“Ryan, Ryan,” was the first thing Ryan heard. Then, the feeling of hands on his face and the smell of blood. He opened his eyes to darkness that quickly flared to light as Gavin lit a torch and wedged it in the ground near Ryan’s face.

“Gav?” Ryan asked, voice hoarse. He had no idea—

“Oh, thank god,” Gavin said. He leaned forward and pressed a hard kiss to Ryan’s forehead. “Christ, _christ_ , I thought you were dead.”

“You promised,” Ryan said. No, no no. He hadn’t changed anything. It was all going to start over again. “Gavin, you _promised_.”

“It’s dead,” Gavin said. “Whatever it was, it blew itself up and almost took you out too. What were you _thinking_ , Ryan?”

Ryan closed his eyes, finally feeling the pain radiating from his side, his legs. It wouldn’t matter soon.

“Come on, get up,” Gavin muttered, pulling Ryan upright. “We need to get you back to the city.”

“It doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter,” Ryan found himself muttering. He had tried _so hard_.

“Of course it matters, you knob,” Gavin replied. “Now shut up unless you can help me get out of here.”

Ryan leaned heavily on Gavin, letting Gavin take most of his weight. Gavin didn’t complain.

By the time they reached the city, Ryan was mostly numb. He had made sure to steer Gavin clear of the unstable sections of the ruins, the ravine, and the pack of wolves outside the city. Gavin had managed to fend off a zombie, too. But it wouldn’t matter. Tomorrow wasn’t coming.

And then they were in the city, safe until the TNT traps detonated, until the roof of Gavin’s house crumbled or they were swarmed by zombies or—

\--

When Ryan jolted awake again, he wasn’t in his bed. He was laid out on a stack of blankets and staring up at the walls of Geoff’s tower. He hurt. This wasn’t what happened.

“Oh good, you’re awake,” Jack said, coming up beside Ryan, and his smile didn’t quite mask the worry in his eyes.

“Yeah,” Ryan said, mind racing. “Gavin—”

“Geoff made Gavin go get some sleep,” Jack said. “He was exhausted from carrying you back. What happened in those ruins yesterday?”

Ryan stared at Jack, unable to speak. Yesterday? He couldn’t remember a yesterday, couldn’t remember anything except for this today.

“I have to go find Gavin,” he said. “I need to—” He was wobbly on his feet, and Jack reached out either to help him or to stop him, and Ryan glared until Jack backed off and let Ryan make his way outside. It was dark out, with the sky lightening on the horizon with the coming morning. He hadn’t woken up so early on any of his other todays.

Gavin was awake when Ryan opened the door to their house, awake and staring blankly out the window.

“Gavin?” Ryan said quietly. His voice shook. He didn’t want to believe that it might finally all be over.

“You shouldn’t be walking around,” Gavin said, rushing over to help Ryan to the bed. “What are you thinking, you—”

“I need you to tell me what happened yesterday,” Ryan said, letting himself be pushed down onto the bed. He grabbed Gavin’s hand and refused to let go. “I need—please. Please, Gavin.”

And so Gavin did, told Ryan about how they had explored the ruins, how weirdly Ryan had acted the whole day, how he had found Ryan after the thing haunting the ruins had exploded, how he had brought Ryan back to the city with him half-conscious and hysterical.

“Don’t you remember?” Gavin asked when he was finished, looking concerned.

Ryan shook his head. “No, I remember,” he said. He remembered too much. “I just… I needed to make sure. Thank you.”

“Not a problem, love,” Gavin said, kissing Ryan’s temple, but he still looked worried.

Ryan never told Gavin what had happened all those days. Never told him how many times he had seen Gavin die. But sometimes he thought Gavin knew, at least a little bit. Gavin was so much more perceptive than he seemed, after all, and sometimes it was like he could just tell when Ryan was reliving those memories. He would take Ryan’s hand, talk to him, distract him until Ryan came back to the present, where Gavin was alive and whole.

They never went back to those ruins.


	3. the past cannot harm you anymore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (this one might end in tears)

The creature was dying, Ryan could feel it in the air, and he danced back again as it moved toward him. It looked something like a creeper, but large and with electricity crackling along its skin. Most of Ryan’s left side was numb from the force of the creeper’s shock, but it didn’t matter. It wouldn’t matter soon. He stepped forward and the creeper began to hiss at him.

“Ryan!” The shout echoed down the narrow hall and Ryan looked back, just for a second. Gavin was there, right behind him, brandishing his pickaxe in front of him like a weapon. Ryan froze. No. He couldn’t do this again.

Emboldened by his distraction, the creeper began to hiss louder, the sound echoing throughout the ruins, and Ryan couldn’t even open his mouth to scream at Gavin to get away before the thing exploded into whiteness.

\--

Ryan woke with Gavin shaking beside him, and as soon as Ryan was awake Gavin clutched at him. Ryan could feel the tremors running through Gavin’s body, tremors that matched Ryan’s own.

“Oh god,” Gavin was muttering over and over again into Ryan’s shoulder: _oh god, oh god, oh god_. Ryan could do nothing but press shaky kisses into Gavin’s hair and rock them gently back and forth.

“Ryan, what was that?” Gavin asked finally, voice scratchy. “It _hurt_.”

Ryan didn’t have an answer for the phantom pain deep in his muscles. It had been so much less painful when Gavin hadn’t _known_.

“Ryan?” Gavin’s voice rose hysterically. “Ryan, I—”

“I don’t know,” Ryan said honestly, voice hoarse. “I don’t know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm [ryanthepowerbottomguy](http://ryanthepowerbottomguy.tumblr.com) over on tumblr! come say hi!


End file.
